The depths of the sea were far from peaceful. By contrast, the Heavenly Palace was, for the moment, relatively tranquil.

After tossing Si Zhuo into the Heavenly Palace, the Divine Guard Army failed to assign anyone to take charge of him. Instead, they stationed themselves above the palace, allowing him to wander freely inside under their watch.

This time, he had no intention of escaping. The hardware simply didn’t allow it—he couldn’t defeat the Divine Guards. So he wandered through the Heavenly Palace, guided by memory.

Si Zhuo didn’t immediately return to the palace where Luan Ling lived. Last time, he’d only taken a brief glance, enough to see how monotonous it was—nearly every space filled with books.

Walking deeper into the palace grounds, he headed north and soon caught the rich fragrance of osmanthus blossoms. It seemed he had found the side courtyard Luan Ling had mentioned.

It was even more dilapidated than he’d imagined. For such a magnificent Heavenly Palace to contain a place like this was truly rare.

Still, there was no dust on the door handle. Si Zhuo glanced at it and pushed the door open.

The interior looked better than the exterior suggested. The buildings were old, but not particularly dirty or chaotic.

There was indeed an osmanthus tree in the courtyard. There was no rope hanging from it, unlike what Luan Ling had described. The tree wasn’t very tall—its tip didn’t even rise above the courtyard wall—but it was lush and full, clusters of blossoms bursting forth. The fragrance assaulted his senses aggressively.

Si Zhuo spotted a small shovel in the corner. He raised his hand, and the shovel flew into his grasp.

He began digging.

He walked beneath the osmanthus tree and crouched down, just about to start, when a voice stopped him.

“Do not touch what belongs to others.”

Si Zhuo narrowed his eyes and turned around.

The newcomer wore white robes and carried a long sword, suspended in midair behind him, looking down at Si Zhuo. His expression was calm, devoid of sorrow or joy, utterly lacking any trace of worldly warmth.

This was probably what mortals imagined a god to look like.

A true powerhouse—Si Zhuo couldn’t sense his strength at all.

Frowning, Si Zhuo said, “If it’s mine, why can’t I touch it?”

After all, who wasn’t a little princess?

Luan Qingchen’s expression didn’t change as he stated a simple fact. “You are not her.”

Si Zhuo hadn’t expected him to see through the truth—something even the Empress hadn’t been able to do. If this man had appeared before the flogging, he might not have suffered that punishment.

Yet despite seeing through the truth, the man showed no intention of capturing or questioning him. Compared to the rigid elders, he was almost more artificial. The Heavenly Realm truly housed all sorts of strange beings.

“She told me to dig,” Si Zhuo said, raising an eyebrow at Luan Qingchen. “Said life’s too bitter—one needs some sweetness now and then.”

By now, Si Zhuo had figured out the Emperor’s family drama. Since this man served in the Heavenly Palace, he surely understood Luan Ling’s predicament. Si Zhuo didn’t mind laying things bare.

Luan Qingchen didn’t answer. He tilted his head slightly and said, “She’s here.”

Who?

Si Zhuo’s question was answered almost immediately.

He rolled his eyes toward the heavens, pretending not to notice anything, and turned back, raising the shovel again.

Before it touched the ground, his wrist went numb and the shovel flew out of his hand.

Somewhat speechless, he stood up, leaned against the osmanthus tree, and looked at the dignified and luxurious Empress of Heaven in silence.

“You truly are capable,” she said coolly. “You’ve caused so much trouble, yet you look pleased with yourself.”

“And how should I act?” Si Zhuo crossed his arms. The wounds on his back no longer hurt, but he would never forget this woman’s madness.

All that over skipping class—did it really warrant acting as if he’d murdered her family?

“You can do as you like,” the Empress replied calmly, gazing at the osmanthus tree above him. “Just don’t drag others down with you. If you have no shame, at least we still understand propriety.”

“Qingchen.”

At her call, the white-robed god appeared behind her.

“Take her away to reflect behind closed doors. Without my permission, she is not to leave.”

Luan Qingchen glanced at Si Zhuo without a word. In the next instant, the scene before Si Zhuo’s eyes shifted to the book-filled sleeping chamber.

“Aren’t you going to tell the Empress the truth?” Si Zhuo asked as Luan Qingchen prepared to leave.

But Luan Qingchen acted as though he hadn’t heard a thing. He calmly exited and shut the palace doors behind him.

Si Zhuo stood in silence for a moment, then looked at the walls covered in books.

Well, solitary confinement was nothing. Who hadn’t been locked up as a child?

Luan Ling had never been confined before.

Staring at the icy chamber, she shivered and hugged her frail, pitiful self.

What kind of awful place was this?! Nothing but ice—at least a dark room would have a table!

Thinking of Si Zhuo’s father’s look of disappointment, and his mother’s endless tears, her fantasy of a seven-day seaside getaway was completely shattered.

Why did everything become so unlucky once the story shifted to her perspective? Could it be that she was the legendary protagonist?

Luan Ling propped her chin on her hand, deep in thought.

“Si Zhuo. Si Zhuo.”

A voice interrupted her.

She looked up to see a head cautiously peeking out from around the corner.

Si Qing glanced nervously behind her, then tossed over a package wrapped in oiled paper.

“Father and Mother are pretty angry this time. You should figure things out yourself.”

She disappeared in a flash.

Luan Ling was bewildered. She stood up, picked up the bundle, and opened it.

Inside were seven flatbreads—and a dagger.

The bread clearly meant she should behave and stay put for seven days. But what was the dagger for? Was she supposed to castrate herself?

She looked at the dagger, then at the space between her legs, and instantly jerked her gaze upward as if her eyes had been burned.

Absurd. Absolutely absurd.

Annoying. Utterly annoying.

Si Zhuo stared at the book filled with dense notes, gaining a newfound respect for Luan Ling’s patience.

She could turn dry, theory-heavy ancient manuals into neatly organized exam points—truly a bookworm.

After rummaging through the shelves, he found several newer books on sensing and controlling magic.

Since Luan Ling was already skilled in this area, she rarely read them herself. With nothing better to do, he decided to take a look.

After some time, noise erupted outside. Si Zhuo put the book down and used the spell he’d just learned to sense what was happening.

“She’s back?!”

Luan Yu stood before the palace gates, shouting at the guards. “Let me in! I’m going to take revenge!”

The guards exchanged looks, both visibly troubled.

This second prince had always been like this—seizing every chance to torment Luan Ling. Not only was she fed up, even they were.

“Second Prince,” one guard said politely, “the princess is in confinement. If you want revenge, you’ll have to wait until she’s released.”

“I don’t care! She hit me! Why should confinement be enough?!”

Idiot, the guard thought, though his smile remained. “But the Empress has given strict orders. Without her permission, the princess may not leave.”

“She can’t come out—but no one said I can’t go in! I promise I’ll beat her up and leave!”

Sure. With you.

The guards glanced at the bruises still visible on Luan Yu’s face and mocked him inwardly. He’d always lost arguments, and now he’d been beaten like this—and still came back for more.

But as professional Heavenly Realm employees, they would never show displeasure toward the boss’s son.

“We really can’t let you in… We’re just following orders…”

“Fine. You won’t let me in?” Luan Yu glared, shaking his head. “I’ll find my own way!”

The guards watched him leave, then burst into laughter.

The second prince looked way too ugly like that!

Si Zhuo observed everything, very satisfied with the outcome.

Fixing people’s heads was his specialty.

In the Dragon Palace beneath the sea, Luan Ling finally figured out the dagger’s purpose.

She’d tried melting the ice chamber with fire, but the ice was solid as bedrock—completely unresponsive.

However, once she channeled fire into the dagger, she discovered the flames could persist along the blade. When she stabbed the ice with it, the ice sliced apart like tofu.

She thought she’d gotten an Eastern Invincible script, but it turned out to be The Shawshank Redemption.

Though this method consumed a great deal of divine power, escaping the ice prison was worth the effort.

So Luan Ling began digging.

Some things only reveal themselves after persistence—and sometimes you realize that giving up would have been far more comfortable.

It was much harder than she’d imagined.

After digging for a long time, exhaustion set in.

She’d already been short on rest from recent missions, fought a major battle the day before, endured arrest, trial, and exile—all without rest. Now, burning divine power left her on the verge of collapse.

No. For the sake of her seven-day seaside dream, she had to keep going.

There was no turning back now. What if success was just around the corner? She’d regret quitting.

Besides… she glanced behind her. The ice she’d removed was slowly regenerating. Going back would mean wasting even more power.

Clutching the dagger, Luan Ling pressed on.

Night gradually swallowed the sky. Si Zhuo glanced out the window, pretending not to notice a roof tile fall from above.

After countless efforts, Luan Yu finally managed to poke a hole in the palace barrier.

He would get his revenge.

Sneaking into the lit study, he saw Si Zhuo ahead and crept up behind him.

Just as he was about to strike, Si Zhuo yawned and stretched.

Ah!

Luan Yu covered his struck eye and hurriedly concealed himself as Si Zhuo nearly turned around.

Si Zhuo glanced behind him, smirked slightly, and returned to his book.

One failed attempt—he’d wait for another chance.

When Si Zhuo extinguished the lamp and darkness fell, Luan Yu followed cautiously, planning a surprise attack.

“Ow! It’s burning! It’s burning!”

Si Zhuo calmly stepped around a brazier, ignoring the commotion.

Luan Yu, tears streaming, threw off his flaming shoe and limped onward.

This crazy girl’s palace was way too dangerous…

He waited. Two hours passed before she finally fell asleep, set down her book, and lay flat.

The moment had come!

Luan Yu hyped himself up, stood by the bed, clenched his fists, and swung at Luan Ling.

“Ah!”

The person who should’ve been asleep appeared behind him like a ghost. Si Zhuo grabbed Luan Yu by the throat and slammed him onto the bed’s edge, whispering into his ear with a grin:

“Looks like you didn’t learn your lesson last time.”

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